


Louder, Please

by cadkitten



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Caught, Confessions, Desperation, Discussion of past sexual acts, M/M, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, overreacting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 03:13:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: The fact of the matter was,Damian was loud...





	Louder, Please

**Author's Note:**

> Work number 800!

Damian's hand wrapped around his penis, his grip tightening as he rapidly stroked. Leaning forward, he hunched over the desk and slid his ass toward the front of his chair, hooking his legs around the sides and straining forward. A few more strokes and he began to rock his hips in quick little jerks. 

Heat sliced up through his body and his breath stuttered, his cheeks heating as he neared orgasm. Two weeks. It'd been two miserable weeks rooming with Grayson before he actually had time alone long enough to get off. Sure, they had separate bedrooms and there was a decent sized bathroom he could have used, but the fact of the matter was, _Damian was loud_. It wasn't something he could help, never had been.

He could still remember his first orgasm so many years ago, how he'd whined and moaned, arching from his bed as he stroked through it, and how he'd had to lie and say he'd had a bad dream moments later when the knock came on his door, asking if he was okay.

The second time had been no better, his startled cries echoing off the bathroom walls and he'd made up some story about how he'd gotten conditioner on the floor and slipped. Not that he thought anyone had bought that one, but he'd been too embarrassed to admit he'd been cumming so hard he could barely see straight. 

And so, there had begun the tradition of waiting until he was entirely alone or at least isolated enough no one would hear him. Alone in the cave with everyone gone? Check. Alone in the manor every week when Alfred went shopping? Done. He'd cum so many places he'd lost count because he'd just do it wherever he was when he figured out everyone was gone, afraid to wait too long and lose his chance.

His first - and only - time having sex had been with Colin shortly before his best friend moved to another state. He remembered the quiet admissions they'd made to one another the night Colin had arrived with the news of a job he couldn't turn down in Michigan, the way Colin had cupped his cheek and told him he wanted to tell him just how deeply he'd always cared before he never had the chance again, and Damian... well, Damian hadn't wasted the opportunity.

He stroked faster as he remembered the way Colin's mouth had felt against his own, how his hand had felt stroking Damian through his jeans, and then how his mouth had felt wrapped around his cock, how warm and inviting and - _god_ \- how quickly he'd cum out of sheer excitement at seeing his dick in someone else's mouth. 

Closing his eyes, he let the remembered sensation of Colin's cock on his tongue work him up even further, allowed himself the gift of recalling how it'd felt twitching against his tongue when Colin had unloaded equally as quickly. Broken images of their frantic rutting on the bed, Colin's cock against his own, the sensation of their combined cum squirting over his skin.

Damian's hips jerked harshly, his breath heaving in and out, his muscles straining, and then relief was slamming into him like a physical blow. Heat rippled through him and he strained upward, hand tight around his base as he let out a loud cry, the first squirt of his cum splattering the underside of the desk.

Rocking back, he let go of his cock and grabbed the both sides of the seat and pumped his hips against the air as he continued to cum, his cries loud in the empty room, cum spurting all over his jeans and hoodie, raining down over him as his dick jerked with every pleasurable spasm.

The end of it came and Damian whined, grabbing frantically at his cock and stroking himself until he was gritting his teeth at the overwhelming sensation, jerking until he actually _screamed_ his pleasure, his nerve endings lighting up and a deeper orgasm wracking his frame, thick hot cum spilling over his fist as he kept stroking.

It was only then that he heard the whispered, "Holy _shit_ ," and the somewhat distant sound of the front door closing.

His eyes flicked up to the framed mirror above the desk, found Grayson staring at him in what amounted to shock, his lips parted, his cheeks flushed, and much to his dismay, Damian's dick strained as if he were going to unload again. 

Fear lanced through him and he scrambled up out of the chair, yanking his hoodie down over his cock, his cheeks burning with shame, hands curling into fists, his eyes jerking over the scene of his crime. Cum _everywhere_.

He gave a whimper and turned and bolted from the room, not knowing what else to do. 

Shutting himself in his bedroom, he stood there for a moment, hands trembling, a cacophony of thoughts screaming in his mind.

Grayson was going to be _so_ angry. Kick him out. Or make a scene. Or at least force him to tell him why he was doing it in the damn living room. Why had he been so foolish? And _oh God_ , his art book he'd been using to turn himself on quicker was still out there. And his cum was all over the desk and the carpet and-

Despair crashed into him and he shoved away from the door, stripping out of his soiled hoodie and kicking his way out of his jeans, yanking open drawers and rooting until he found a sweater and his Adidas track pants, yanking them on and angrily stuffing his still-hard cock into the confines and then covering it. 

Anger swelled in the back of his throat and he picked up his hoodie, balling it up and throwing it against the wall as hard as he could, resisting the urge to scream, to throw a true fit in the wake of total humiliation. 

Sinking down onto the edge of his bed, he shoved his hands in his hair and pulled, the lump in his throat growing. Why had he been so stupid?! He at least could have been in his bedroom, could have been concealed even if Grayson heard him. But no. _No_! He'd had to go and be a complete dumbass and get his rocks off in the living room like a heathen! 

His cock twitched in his track pants and he bit back on the whine that wanted out, knowing exactly why he was still so turned on. Some part of him _wanted_ to be caught - and it probably didn't help anything that it was only one of the most attractive men on the entire planet to walk in on him. 

At the same time, that was also the problem. Grayson looked at him like a _brother_ and that had to be absolutely horrifying for him to walk in on. No one wanted to see their sibling like that. Well... okay... some people did, but he sincerely doubted Grayson was one of those people. Not to mention he was pretty sure Dick was either stuffed so far in the closet he'd be finding next year's Christmas presents or... he was just flat-out straight as an arrow. Neither of which jived with walking in on what amounted to your little brother jizzing himself in the living room. 

Damian hunched forward, letting go of his hair and bracing his forearms on his knees, suddenly feeling a little dizzy. Where was he going to go? He'd already told his father to shove it, had never repaired anything with Tim. The Titans didn't have a home base anymore and try as he might, he still hadn't found Jason after he'd left Gotham nearly two years ago. 

This was it. He'd just have to find the cheapest rat-hole he could and find some menial job to keep himself afloat. Damian the barista. Damian the dishwasher. What hired people with no _actual_ experience who still hadn't finished college? He didn't honestly know, hadn't thought he'd ever _need_ to know. 

Shoving himself up off his bed, he grabbed his go bag from under the bed and unzipped it, rushing around the room and starting to toss things toward it, about half of it actually making its way into the bag.

Distantly, almost as background noise, he heard Dick calling his name, decided he'd dreamed it up and tuned back in to the rushing sound in his ears, to the whine noise that was about to drown him.

This time he heard the door open, but didn't stop what he was doing - at least not until Dick's hands grasped his biceps and brought him to a halt. He stared up at him, watched his mouth move and it took three tries before he heard Dick's almost frantic, "Damian! Snap out of it!"

Blinking, he sagged a little as the static receded leaving him feeling drained and perhaps more deeply upset than before. He tried to tug away from Grayson's hold only to find he couldn't. Confusion alone forced words up from inside him. "What? What do you want from me?!"

Dick's fingers tightened and Damian knew it was on purpose. It was the same way Dick had always had to bring him back in control when he'd gone on a rampage. It was the only thing that had ever worked. A firm, unyielding grip and being forced to talk about whatever was eating at him. 

Shame flooded him and he looked away, staring at a spot on the carpet to the left of Dick's shoe. The fight slowly drained out of him and left him trembling on the inside.

Two steps brought them to the bed and Dick carefully guided him to sit down before sitting beside him. "Slow down and talk to me." From the corner of his eye he watched Dick gesture behind them at the mess on the bed. "What's this? Are you trying to leave?"

For a moment Damian considered not answering and then decided it'd be better to talk it out before just storming out and having to face this later. Something inside him wound a bit tighter and when he spoke, his voice was strained, his throat tight. "I imagine you would rather I clean up my mess and leave than have to face me again and yet... here you are."

Dick's hand came up to squeeze his bicep gently and then retreated. "And yet, here I am." He sighed, placing his hand between them on the bed and starting to pick at a stray string on the embroidered pattern. "I forgot the shopping list and came back for it." Dick huffed out a laugh. "You sure don't waste any time, I'll give you that."

Damian's cheeks burned. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, he scowled at his dresser, eyes roving over the various drawer pulls to keep his mind busy. "Sue me," he bit out, anger welling inside him. "You try going weeks without and knowing your time is limited when you are alone."

"C'mon, man... I wasn't trying to put you down." Dick shifted, shoving his shoulder against Damian's. "Just trying to lighten the mood. Which... clearly I failed at, but still."

They were silent for a minute, the moment stretching out until it was ramping up the exponential curve of discomfort before Dick spoke again. "Weeks? Really? Why would you wait so long?"

Damian hitched his arms tighter around his chest, telltale pinpricks of arousal rapidly growing in intensity, his cock starting to harden again. Hunching over to hide it, he snapped his answer back out at Dick, all the while knowing he was the one being the stubborn ass, not Grayson. "Yes weeks. I am more than certain you are capable of counting. I have been here since the seventeenth. Unless the calendar has changed since I was last educated on it, then yes, _weeks_ would seem to be accurate."

"Easy..." Dick reached to touch his shoulder, Damian flinching away from it before instantly regretting having done so. His frown deepened as Dick put his hand back on the bed between them. "I'm not judging you. I'm pretty sure we all do it. I'm just trying to figure out why it's been weeks and why you seem like I've crushed your whole world. I can see embarrassed, even annoyed. But packing up like you're leaving over an accident? It's not like I intentionally came back to interrupt, you know."

It hit Damian then that his reaction probably did seem more like a jab at Dick than the self-flagellation that it was. He deflated slightly and chose to stare at his carpet instead. "I cannot allow myself when others are around, so you may see my predicament when you are _always_ around." Immediately, he regretted saying it, a pang in his chest telling him it had been the wrong thing to say. He sucked in a breath, shaking his head, gaze darting to the side to try to see how Grayson had taken it. "I didn't mean-"

Dick held up his hand. "I get it, it wasn't a commentary on me. You're upset, let's just assume anything barbed is due to that and move on." He let his hand drop and leaned forward as well, resting his elbows on his thighs. "Let me lay it out for you as clear as I can. I have no issues with what just transpired. I was maybe a little shocked to walk in on it, but I'm not grossed out or pissed off or anything else negative you may think I am, okay?"

Damian made a little sound in the back of his throat Dick appeared to accept as affirmative. "I understand if you don't want to answer my questions, just tell me to screw off, but I truly want to know why you feel you only can when I'm not here. You have your own bedroom, even the bathroom - trust me I don't give a fuck if you do it in there, not like it'd be the first time someone has - or hell, wait until I'm asleep and use the living room if that's your only comfort zone or something. Just... why wait until I'm gone?"

Damian could feel his body trying to fold in on itself, trying to shrink down so Dick maybe wouldn't notice him anymore, embarrassment flooding him. "I... _uh_..." he closed his eyes and managed to choke up the rest of his sentence past the elephant on his chest, "I cannot prevent myself from being loud. _Too loud_."

Dick let out a huff of a laugh. "Oh my god, you think I don't know that already? Did you really think you managed to live in a house with Tim for - what - four years? And not end up with him ranting at someone about it? Jesus, Damian, I _know_. I've known pretty much since you hit puberty."

"Because that makes me feel any better!" Damian spit it out, something like anguish wrapping its cold hands around his lungs. "Did you really think it would make me feel better to know you and Tim were laughing me because of something I don't have control over? The _one_ thing I don't have control over?!" He stood up and took a step, intent to stomp his way to the window, but Dick's hand around his wrist stopped him. 

"I wasn't laughing at you. I can't speak for Tim; I know you two have it out for one another, but he's hardly the issue here. Damian... all I'm trying to tell you is that it doesn't bother me. I knew full well going into this arrangement that I could get an earful every night and I came prepared for that. I didn't offer my apartment based on some false notion that you'd never jack off the whole time you're here. I don't know how else to tell you... it's _fine_. Do your thing, get your rocks off, be as loud as you want. If I'm bothered by it, I have earphones. I'm not incapable of blocking out noise."

Damian stood there, his insides trembling and his body valiantly trying to react in all the wrong ways to Dick's words. _If_ he was bothered by it. The words rang in his ears and Damian had to close his eyes and take a deep breath to center himself. "I'm gay."

"I'm not sure why you feel like you have to tell me that, but... okay? What? You expect me to panic over it or something?" Dick tugged lightly on his wrist, tugging him back down to sit. "That changes nothing about anything I've said. Why should it?"

The all too familiar sensation of the desire to lash out wrapped around Damian, tethered on, and he found himself a slave to it. "Shouldn't you be disgusted?! I will be thinking about _men_ while doing it! Right here, right under your roof!"

For a moment Dick's touch disappeared and then he was standing in front of Damian, his hands landing on his shoulders, forcing him to sit back and then either stare uncomfortably at Grayson's crotch or look up at his face. He chose the latter, glowering up at him.

"You're angry, I understand that. Upset because you feel exposed and vulnerable and I get that, too. What I walked in on was clearly very intimate for you and not something you've dealt with before I'm guessing. But I need you to take a deep breath and realize I'm not your enemy. I'm not upset or angry or disgusted or anything you could fathom. At the time, I was unsuspecting and definitely got an eyeful, but I'm not going to be up all night angsting about it. People masturbate, it's a fact of life. I do at least once a day, every day, since I was a teenager. Hell, we catch people all the time on patrol. There's nothing gross about it and I'm in no way upset over that. I _am_ upset that you're acting like it's the end of the world. Like I'm kicking you out when I'm not or like I'm going to start acting like a five year old on the playground about it. I will say this one more time and you damn well better hear me: You're allowed to masturbate. I don't give a shit that you're loud. For the love of _fuck_ don't wait two weeks again and seriously, put your shit away." He let go and gestured. "Literally and figuratively."

Turning, he headed for the door. "Let me know when you have your rational cap on and we'll talk. Until then I swear to god if you leave, I'll hunt you down and drag you back here. Hogtied."

The door shut behind him and Damian wilted against the bed, squirming around for a moment, his cheeks burning as his erection tightened his pants even further. He had it _bad_. So bad.

Grabbing at himself through his track pants, he squeezed until he had to muffle a little cry in his bedspread, only letting go because he was in no way prepared to let Grayson know his little tirade had only served to turn him on further. 

Pushing himself up, he busied himself with putting away what he'd been flinging on the bed, dismayed to find that took far longer than he wanted it to. 

About twenty minutes later, he ducked out his room and into the bathroom, washing his hands and then wetting a washcloth and slinking back toward the desk to clean up his mess. He crouched down and gave the floor a perplexed look, darting a glance toward the kitchen where he heard Dick moving around and then sticking his head under the desk, finding none of his jizz there either. Frowning, he sat back on his haunches and drew the only logical conclusion. 

Dick had cleaned it up.

With a grimace, he shoved himself up and went to toss the cloth in the hamper, going back to the desk and finding his art book closed and bookmarked, neatly on the corner of the desk. He turned his eyes to the ceiling and worked on tamping down on his desire to let the floor swallow him whole out of pure embarrassment. 

Once he felt capable of being rational again, he headed into the kitchen, hands stuffed in his pockets, and settled on a stool, staring pointedly at the countertop instead of at Dick. "I am sorry."

Dick hummed, pausing what sounded like chopping. "Nothing to be sorry for."

"You..." he hesitated, winced, and continued, "you cleaned it up. You should not have had to do that."

"Not my first rodeo, cowboy. I've cleaned you blood, your sweat, your fucking insides off my suit, and I seem to recall cleaning up more disgusting things when you were down with that horrible flu a few years ago. If your cum kills me, you've got some powerful ass shit up in there that I don't know about."

Damian's cheeks were burning by the time he was done and he huffed, pulling his hands from his pockets and resting his forearms on the counter, listening to Dick going back to chopping. 

"All the same, it could not have been pleasant. Therefore, I should extend my apology."

"No sweat. I'm assuming you weren't just planning on leaving it there if you hadn't been caught, so I think we can discount it as not an issue."

They were quiet for a minute before Damian sighed, leaning forward to rest his head on his arms, staring at Grayson's back while he spoke. "I lashed out at you because I was embarrassed. All I could think about was how you'd hate me and want me to leave and not ever be able to look at me again and how disgusted you had to be and-"

Dick stopped chopping and turned, leaning against the counter, hands gripping the countertop on either side of him. "I'm going to stop you right there. I know our minds run away with us when we're upset but I need to tell you that you're wrong. I don't hate you or want you to go away or any of that stuff. I don't know what to say to tell you it's okay, Damian. It's fine. _We're_ fine. I honestly have no idea what it would take to change that."

Damian hesitated and then whispered, "Knowing that I'm attracted to you?" He flinched once the words were out, white hot panic shooting through him, burning him up from the inside out, and when he lifted his head, he knew he probably looked like he was about to be sick. "I... _oh god_."

Dick's tongue appeared for a moment, swiping over the front of his teeth and then retreating as he gave a low whistle. "There we go. That's what's been eating Gilbert Grape."

Damian stared at him, utterly perplexed for a moment and in that instant Dick showed him his dazzling smile. "You think I'll kick you out for that? Maybe we need to spend more time actually talking to each other. _So_ not kicking you out. Not to mention, that's flattering as hell. I mean, it's not like you couldn't get any guy you want and you want _me_? Guy's gotta be honest here." He leaned on the counter and propped his chin on his palm. "That's hot."

Damian sat there, beyond shell shocked. He'd just admitted one of his biggest secrets and Dick's response was... to be flattered? _Better_ , he thought it was hot?

"You..." he felt his brow furrowing, "think that's _hot_?"

Dick gave him a lopsided smile and then pushed off the counter, going back to what he was doing. "Do you think I'm dumb?"

"What? No."

"I invited you here _knowing_ that." Dick shifted, looking over his shoulder at him, waiting. 

Clarity hit Damian smack in the face then. All the dinners Dick had been cooking when he was a mediocre chef at best, the offer of his apartment before Damian so much as tried to ask if anyone had room for him, the fact that Dick was _around_ so much when Dick was normally never around his own home. He knew his habits, knew he liked to go out in the evenings, come home and hit the rooftops. He knew Dick loved sleeping in... and yet he'd been awake before Damian every time, breakfast waiting for him on the counter and Dick settled on the sofa in the living room. He wasn't just being _hospitable_.

Sitting up, he met Grayson's eyes and whispered, "Say it."

Dick let his beautiful smile out again and absolutely beamed at Damian. "I adore you and it's _definitely_ not like a brother."

Damian let out a shock of a laugh, leaning forward against as he took it all in. All Dick had been doing for him. The fact that he didn't look away when he'd walked in on him. That pretty much the instant he'd turned nineteen Dick had stopped leaving the showers for Damian to shower, instead taking his time how Damian knew he liked to, suddenly unafraid of showering next to him, of leaving his body on display. How he'd begun to talk more freely about sexual things in front of him and that maybe that wasn't just Dick's usual way of being. 

He wet his lips and let the flush of arousal work its way through him before he looked back up at Grayson, knowing how turned on he was would be obvious in his eyes. "You liked walking in on me."

Dick shifted again, putting down his knife and crossing his arms. "I'll be thinking about it tonight, that's for damn sure."

Damian groaned, feeling his pants tighten even more, his blood running like fire in his veins. Biting his lip, Damian squeezed his thighs together and let out a shaky breath. Part of him wanted to throw caution to the wind and ignore every inhibition he'd ever had and just start jacking off right here where Grayson could see him. The other - more rational - part of him quietly informed him that taking it slower was probably best given he was sort of invested in trying to _keep_ Dick around, not in some horny one-time thing. 

His gaze flicked down to find Dick's pants a bit tight around the edges as well and then back up to his face. He pressed his lips together, debating, and then stood up, knowing full-well Grayson could see how painfully hard he was, gave it a second for it to register, and then turned away. "You'll be the death of me. I hope you know that."

He heard Dick snort and then his quiet words, a touch of amusement in them. "Better be loud enough to hear or I'm calling bullshit."

Damian ducked into the bathroom, closed the door and leaned back against it, his heart racing and a stupid smile plastered to his face that he just couldn't erase. Grayson wanted him and if that just wasn't the best thing in the entire world, he had no idea what was.


End file.
